Side Effects
by OceaniaQ
Summary: The war against the Dark Lord has many consequences...including an epidemic. RHr


**Side Effects**

**By OceaniaQ**

**Disclaimer:** Regretfully, I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's wonderful characters or related indicia. I do, however, immensely enjoy using them as a springboard for my own entertainment and creativity.

Several drops of ink splattered onto Hermione Granger's Arithmancy essay as she gave yet another hacking cough.

"Are you going to let Pomfrey check that out before you hack up a lung?" came Ron's voice from across the common room.

"Well, I suppose I should but I have to finish my work first…" she trailed off as Ron appeared behind her.

"Come on, Hermione, what is that, two feet already? That's six more inches of parchment than Professor Vector asked for! You're finished."

"But I didn't…"

"He's right," called Harry from an armchair where he was predicting death next Thursday for Divination. "Go get some Pepperup Potion and we'll let you do as much homework as you want. I can hear you coughing at night even through all this stone," he said, indicating the walls.

"Honestly, Harry, you know that's not true and if you think…" Hermione began to cough again, doubled over and unable to continue.

"That's it. We're going. Bye, Harry," said Ron, taking her arm and leading her to the portrait hole. Hermione momentarily gasped for air and waved rather weakly to Harry.

Hermione and Ron had been a couple for about a year, but there was still the occasional bout of fireworks. The stubborn are bound to butt heads once in awhile and be none the worse for it.

Presently they arrived at the Infirmary. Hermione had stopped coughing but her face was pale and she still leaned on Ron. Madame Pomfrey bustled over.

"Goodness, Miss Granger! Was that you I heard all the way down the corridor?"

Hermione nodded. "Well, let me get some Pepperup. I do wish it would hurry up and snow. This damp cold isn't doing anyone much good. Drink up," she commanded, handing over a flaskful of potion.

Hermione swallowed and her face turned crimson, then her ears began to give off the telltale steam.

"Back to Gryffindor with you, then. I trust you've finished your work for this evening? You need a good night's sleep."

"Actually, I was hoping to read up on…" Hermione began. Ron put a hand over her mouth.

"She's caught up for the next month," he finished, and then escorted her out the door.

Once they were in the corridor, Hermione let loose her rage. "Really, Ron. Just because you get by with the bare minimum doesn't mean it's a good thing to do. Some of us have higher expectations!" she spouted, uninterrupted by respiratory spasm.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," he muttered.

"It's important to be knowledgeable on a number of topics. N.E.W.T.s will be here before you know it. If you just picked up a book once in awhile…"she continued, all the way to Gryffindor Tower.

*********

Ron found himself in the midst of a dreadful nightmare. _Nightmare?_ He thought. _That's Harry's deal, isn't it? _But suddenly his semi-cognizance evaporated and he was aware of a crushing weight on his chest and throat. He looked down and found he was bolted into an iron harness, his feet not touching the ground. All around, his friends were similarly shackled. Water began pouring from above. He wanted to shout, but his lungs felt small and they were filling with liquid. He choked and wheezed and heard that others were doing the same. And there was pressure on his shoulder now, too. He wrenched away from it and found himself in his own four-poster, Harry leaning over him.

"Ron! Ron, wake up!" whispered Harry urgently. "It's Hermione!" Harry pushed the curtains aside to reveal Hermione in a heap on the floor near the doorway. Ron cleared the constricted feeling from his own lungs and quickly joined Harry next to her. She wheezed audibly and Harry rubbed her back.

"The potion..." she choked out, "didn't work."

"I'm going to get McGonagall," offered Neville, who was now also awake.

"I'll go too. You stay, Ron," ordered Harry.

Ron looked at Harry as if her were mad. "Naw, I reckon I'll go back to bed," he noted sarcastically, but they were already gone.

He looked forlornly at his girlfriend and pulled her into his lap. Leaning her against his chest he could feel whatever was rattling around in her lungs and he winced. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall arrived just then in her tartan dressing gown, looking highly concerned.

"We have to get her to the Infirmary. Miss Granger, can you walk?"

Hermione gave a small nod. McGonagall held out a hand to help her up.

"Professor can't we…" implored Ron.

"Go back to bed, Mr. Weasley. We'll manage. You can come by in the morning if Madame Pomfrey allows it." And with that, they departed.  


End file.
